About The Money
by tfdias
Summary: Nobody messes with the Boss. Rated M for content, language, terms and references. Possible sexual language.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I know, I know - how could I start another story when I have so many that I haven't updated? I couldn't help it! My creative juices started flowing with this one and I had to put it to work before all the ideas went away. So, let's just say that this is nothing typical like the other stories I've written. To be honest, I haven't written anything like this or seen any stories like this for that matter. So, I will warn you - the content, language, etc. will be NSFW. I just want to see where my creativity can take me without any restraints. I also will say that I am black and I might use "black" terms, references, etc. that might not be widely understood by people of other races - which might not happen, but I will explain anything that might seem confusing. No, this story will not be an "urban" (I hate that word) fiction story. It's just going to be an interesting twist to these characters that I love oh so much! And let's be honest - the star of the show IS a black woman and as much as I try to stray away from race in my writing, there's no pointing in hiding the obvious. **

**The first few chapters might be a little bit confusing. I'm planning for this to be a first-person narrative, but I haven't decided if the narrator will change later on in the story or remain the same. That being said, I'm not saying who the narrator is (sorry lol!) but maybe you guys can guess? (:**

**Anywho, hope you all enjoy. I would LOVE everyone's comments on this, just to see if people are interested or not. And, there's already another chapter written, so the next update shouldn't take as long as usual lol.**

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><p>I watched out the window as clouds, streets, and patches of grass started to blend in to one another while the large aircraft slowly descend from out of the sky. After another cross-country flight, the plane was finally landing.<p>

**Thank God!**

If there was anything that I hated more than anything in the whole entire world, it was definitely being on an airplane. Was I ever scared of the plane crashing? Heavens no. But what joy could anyone possibly find in being suspended in the air, confined to a seat, and having your ears setting off fireworks every time you yawned, sneezed, or if you just so happened to stretch your mouth open too wide?

And if there was anything worse than taking one flight, it was taking multiple flights in one day! Flights that had to connect in other cities before you finally reached your destination was the most frustrating and if I hated flying period, it was no surprise that I wasn't much of a fan of having to fly back and forth within one day - which, I had done today...

As you could imagine, I am definitely not a happy camper right now. Please, someone please, get me the fuck off of this huge metal bird!

And as if God was listening to the thoughts going through my head, I heard the crackling sound of the intercom system before a flight attendant said, "Ladies and gentleman, we have safely landed and the captain has now disabled the 'seat belt warning'. You are all now able to exit the plane. We would like to thank you for flying with…"

I rolled my eyes in my seat while she went on and on about the procedure for exiting the plane. I know it was protocol, but is was also quite annoying, seeing that there were only four other people on this plane besides she and the pilot, therefore making all of us frequent fliers, which in turn made us all fully aware of what was expected of us as the plane was now ready for departure.

I didn't have time to pay attention to Tiffany (the flight attendant - I made sure of searching for her badge and learning her name before the plane even took off for flight some hours ago) as I quickly gathered my things around me. Luckily, I had taken a nap this round of the trip, so my laptop and iPad were still tucked in their rightful cases. The only things I had to grab were the carry-on luggage I had in the top compartment and the coat that was resting in the seat next to me.

I was welcomed with a "Good evening, Boss" as I carefully walked down the air stairs, which I responded to with a slight nod of the head. The air was cool, not too hot and not too cold, which was absolutely perfect for the cool January month. I made sure to loosen and remove the scarf around my neck before I ducked into the backseat. The brand new all black 2015 Yukon was sent off to be bulletproofed before I left for the airport earlier this morning, prompting me to have to ride in the old Cadillac Escalade that I was still holding on to. It was the first SUV that I picked out, as it came with the territory. I had much too many fond memories in it and I just wasn't ready to give it up yet.

"The Stallion is in the pen", I heard one of my security guards say as they shut the door behind me. I eagerly let my eyes wander around the newly decked-out vehicle trying to see if I could spot any major differences than when I rode in it home last night. There were none.

"They do a discreet job. If it weren't for me being in the shop and watching the work for hours on end, I would have suggested on you getting your money back.."

I caught his eye (and his smirk) in the rear view mirror. I had been caught.

"Good evening O'Neal", I responded, trying to play off him noticing my brief inspection.

"Good evening Boss. How was your flight?"

**He taunted me. He knew I hated flying.**

"Fuck you!", we both laughed at my reaction and settled in my seat, buckling my seat belt as he slowly pulled out of the airport parking lot.

Travis O'Neal was his name, although I had always called him O'Neal, or simply O, for short. I had a thing for calling people by their last names. O had been one of my drivers - my personal favorite - for the past three years. I hadn't seen him in about a month, due to me giving him the month of December off to go on vacation with his family, and I was pleasantly surprised to see he had returned. He had a strong sense of loyalty, putting all shit to the side and making sure my transport went seamless and flawless. I was glad that he was apart of my team and I ensured that he knew at all times.

"Where to this evening?", he asked as we finally cleared through the airport traffic.

"I don't know. I'm kinda hungry and I could definitely use a drink."

"Did they not feed you on the plane?", he inquired, his voice sounding a little upset at the thought that I wasn't 100% taken care of.

"They tried to. But I wasn't in the mood for rabbit food. I wanted junk and their menu was a little too gourmet for me..."

"Somethings never change, I see...", he chuckled. "I have a bottle chilling in the mini-fridge for you. And I'm sure there's some yogurt or something in there to hold you over. Kerry (my personal chef) is on standby tonight for your arrival..."

**See what I'm talking about? Seamless and flawless.**

"And they wonder why I keep you around", he tried his best to hide the blush spreading across his face after my comment. I opened the mini fridge and found an unopened bottle of Hennessy, two chilled glasses and a bowl of freshly cut pineapples - pineapples were my favorite. I smiled to myself as I stabbed the fruit with a fork, bringing a piece to my lips and biting it.

"How's the family, O?", I asked as I waved my fork in the air in contentment. I filled both glasses with the cold brown liquid and gently tapped his shoulder with one, offering him a glass. "You know this is totally against the law and we could both get in trouble for this...", I winked as he took the glass from my hands and quickly took a large gulp.

"Family's good Boss. The vacation time was much needed. Margie got some time away from work and I had the kids nearby to talk some sense into them..."

_Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzz._

My cellphone vibrated where I placed it in the cup holder next to me, interrupting the conversation. I reached for it and rolled my eyes, huffing as I read the name on the caller ID.

"Sorry O, I have to take this", he nodded, sipping his drink as he continue to drive.

"What?!"

"Well that's no way to answer the phone..."

"What is it?!", my tone was still the same. I was definitely not in the mood.

"I assumed you landed..."

"I did..."

"And I assume you were on your way home..."

"I am..."

"And I just know the look on your face you have right now is not so pretty as I tell you that we have some unfinished business to handle before you rest your head tonight..."

"Seriously?!"

"The quicker you get here, the better..."

"Fine! And there better be a plate from downstairs waiting for me!"

"Of course, Boss", the line went blank and I growled to myself.

"Change of plans?", O asked while switching over to another lane.

"I'll be lucky if this damn bottle isn't finished before the end of the night!", I refilled both of our glasses, indulging in another piece of pineapple.

"So how's Margie doing?"

O proceeded to tell me of how Marge, his wife of twenty years, had recently landed Beyoncé (yes, _the_ Beyoncé) as a client. Margie (what we sometimes called her) is a personal stylist for one of the high end fashion stores. On the side, she used her connections to land her own clients - who were mostly music artists, actors, athletes and other celebrities, as well as myself. She always got her hands on the most exclusive pieces in fashion and she was definitely my go-to person for wardrobe purchases.

The couple only had two children, seventeen year old fraternal twins Eliza and Ezekiel. Eliza was the first born, something she made known whenever the opportunity would present itself. Being only seventeen, Eliza was very mature - in looks and also personality. She had the body of a grown woman, which had her fellow male peers (as well as old perverts) flocking to her like crazy. She had sex appeal and she wasn't afraid to let it be known. I always told O she would be a problem the day she finally became legal. Ezekiel was the total opposite. Like his sister, he was very good looking and seemed to be a little charmer. However, he was not a hit with the ladies. Z, for short, was almost always found with his head in a book. He was an avid reader and spent majority of his time locked up in his room finding something to learn about. When he wasn't studying, he was writing lyrics. He had skills when it came to being a songwriter, but he was always too nervous to perform.

"You know, they always show the good side of kids in movies and in television. Sweet, little kiddies that want to hug and cuddle you and think you've hung the moon in the sky. They didn't tell you shit about their teenage years!"

I laughed - he was true. "What happened now?"

"Eliza wants to go on a trip to LA with her friends for Spring Break this year. Of course, Marge thinks it's okay. 'She's young and beautiful! Let her have fun.' Are you fucking kidding me? Which man with sense would send his seventeen year old daughter halfway across the country with no adult supervision for a whole week?! Of course, I told her no, so of course, I'm the bad guy!"

"She's a teenager O, you'll always be the bad guy."

"Right! And then E is going on about this 'College isn't for everyone' bullshit. He has the nerve to say Margie and I didn't go to college, so why should he?"

He continued his rant about the kids, which was very comedic, and I tried to give him the best advice possible. It wasn't long before we had finally reached my destination. I prepared myself to exit the vehicle once my security team came into view.

"O, you should cool off some of that steam. This meeting might take awhile. Why don't you park the car and come inside. I'll have a drink waiting for you..."

"Sure thing, Boss", I quickly waved goodbye as one of my agents closed the door for me.

"Stallion in the stable.."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I think you've all waited long enough lol. I was glad to see how many people were interested in this story. I know the first chapter was a bit slow and confusing. But I promise, it does get a little better. I got at least four reviews that said "I'm intrigued", which I thought was so funny!**

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><p>I made my way out of the truck and slowly walked the red carpet towards the front door. The agents that stood on the carpet paged the others inside to let them know of my arrival. Great, to think that I'd have the opportunity to slip away from these clowns for a night. I couldn't even go out to the club without having a detail watching me like a hawk - another thing that came with the territory.<p>

But this wasn't your ordinary club. Cheeks was a lucrative strip club, simply the best in the area. Not only did they have the most attractive strippers, the grandest selection of alcohol and the tastiest meals that one could ever expect, it was also the club where most celebrities and your typical criminals frequented. It was also where I used to work before I was taken out of the clubs by a man with money...

**...or so everyone thought.**

The huge metal doors opened and a cloud of smoke immediately smacked me in the face. I looked to my right as I tried to fan away the death trap and found Pablo, the bouncer puffing away at a cigar like he was some some sort of pimp or something. I assume he noticed the stream of light from outside coming in from the door being opened because he looked in my direction, quickly outing his cigar and standing at attention.

"Evening Mrs. G, sorry about that. I was just catching a quick break..."

"Pablo, he pays you to bounce people out of the club, not to bounce smoke off the walls. Don't let it happen again!", he nodded and returned to stand at his post, his tattoos exposed as he crossed his huge arms across his chest.

The club was packed tonight - the music bumpin', the bottles poppin', ladies dancin' and fellas trying to mack. Hundreds and thousands of dollars flew up in the air as strippers slid down their poles. Thank goodness I never had to do that again.

I quickly tried to make my way through the crowd without being detected, but it was damn near impossible with six huge black guys hot on my tail, making sure that I arrived to my true destination safely and untouched. So of course, all eyes were on me, from the eager beaver ass men who sized me up in hopes of getting a chance to take me home, to the thirsty women sharing bottles who rolled their eyes and scoffed under their breaths with jealousy.

I'm not one to toot my own horn, but _toot toot_! I was what fashion magazines called "absolutely stunning" and drop dead gorgeous" and what your favorite rappers nowadays called a "bad bitch".

Did I try to be? No. Was it my fault that my mother's genes blessed me with knockout curves, high cheekbones, pouty lips and beautiful doe eyes? No. Did I accept my beauty for what it was and carried myself damn near flawless at all times. You damn right. However, I didn't have an ounce of vanity or conceitedness. There were far much more important things to worry about. And I had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.

_**If it ain't about the money**_

_**Ain't no use of you ringin' my line, stop wastin' my time**_

Everyone had a theme song and at the current moment, T.I.'s _About The Money_ was mine. As much as I wanted to grab one of the shot glasses passing by on a silver platter and dance while singing along to one of my favorite songs at the moment, I had a long ass day and there was some business that still needed to get handled.

I stood to the side while one of the agents opened a door for me, two of them walking ahead of me, making sure the coast was clear, as the others trailed behind. Besides the sound of the bass thumping, the only sound to be heard through the hallway was my heels clacking on the concrete and the inhales and exhales the group of us took.

We boarded the elevator after a quick search and took it to the top floor of the building. There were five floors to be exact - the main level, where the club was held; a basement, which was below the club and was basically where the liquor, food supplies, cookware and other club items were stored; the floor above the club with rooms where guests could rent out if they were too drunk to drive - or if they didn't want their significant others to know about the one night stands they were planning for the night; the forth floor held the offices of the club employees - the on site event planners and the kitchen staff, as well as the dressing rooms and bathrooms for the dancers; and lastly, the fifth floor held the office of the owner, which exactly where I was heading.

Not everyone was allowed to go up to the fifth floor. To be honest, only a few people had the access to control the elevator up to the top floor and I was one of them. With an approved fingerprint scan, a visitor could send themselves up from inside the elevator, as well as paging the elevator to go back down.

We waited patiently as the elevator slowly ascended past each floor and I smiled as I heard one of the guys mumbling the lyrics to a Nicki Minaj song that was playing downstairs. I was grateful that the elevator finally dinged, signaling that we had made it to the top floor. The doors slid open, showcasing the owner's huge office, which was also his own apartment.

Did I mention that the owner was my boyfriend for the past year and a half?

**...or so everyone thought. **

"Well well well, look who's here! So nice of you to finally make it, C!"

I wanted to smack that smug little smile off of his face for making me come here this late at night.

"Fuck off Harrison, do you have my food?"

"That's no way to speak to your man baby, especially when you haven't seen him all day", he moved over to my direction, quickly wrapping his hands around my waist and nuzzling his face in my neck. "Food's in the kitchen", he whispered in my ear before lifting his face and waving off my security detail with a flash of his fingers. Once they finally headed back into the elevators and took it back downstairs, he let me go.

"You get better and better at this every day. I swear you have some incestual attraction to me...", I joked as I walked past him into the kitchen in search of whatever he ordered me to eat.

"Fuck you Liv!", he yelled out from where I presumed he was in the entertainment room area. The office/penthouse/whatever had its own living area that was closed off and featured a bedroom, full bathroom, kitchen and entertainment room. The other side actually did have Harrison's office, as well as a conference room used for meetings and a room that I liked to call "The Situation Room".

But to understand where the name came from, you'd have to get a better understanding of this whole operation.

See, Harrison and I aren't in relationship, never were and never will be. We're actually first cousins, related by our mothers who are twin sisters. Our "relationship" was just an act to keep ourselves, mostly me, well protected in this business. Our past isn't really important right now. Just know, we started from the bottom, now we here.

Harrison made Cheeks what it is today, from the construction and architectural design to the success it had gained in the past year and a half. He had really made a name for himself and I was really proud of him.

What do I have to do with Cheeks? Nothing really, besides the fact that I danced there from when the club opened, up until a few months ago and the fact that I get to come and go whenever I want and have unlimited access to the bar and kitchen. Oh yeah, and basically every dollar that circulates through here belongs to me. My operation was something much bigger than Cheeks.

"Now what was this problem we had to handle?", I asked carrying the plate of hot wings and celery sticks over to the white couch where he was sitting.

"You really think you're gonna eat those wings on my couch?", his attention averted from the show on television as he looked over at me in a face of disgust.

"Trust me, if we don't get this shit over with so I can go home, a buffalo wing sauce stain won't be the only one you'll have to worry about...", I answered as I gnawed my way through the deliciously fried and sauce covered piece of chicken.

"The vice principal had to step in for the principal today and a mini-lockdown ensued", he sighed. I immediately picked up on his reference using our shared code language.

"What?!", I was mid-bite when I immediately dropped the wing back on the the platter. "The whole school or just a class?"

"Just a class, but it also put a damper on the whole school", he said quietly, knowing I was bound to blow a fuse any moment now. "Someone broke into a classroom..."

"Harrison, what the fuck do you mean? I've been gone for a few hours and someone managed to get robbed?!"

"Ahem..", he cleared his throat, reminding me that I was speaking out of code. "It happened last night..."

"Last fucking night?!", I pushed the plate of chicken on the coffee table and jumped out of my seat. "And you waited until now, well over twenty four hours to tell me?!", fuck a fuse, I was a full blown fire.

"Liv, I know you had to take that flight today and I couldn't have you on a plane stressed out about what was going on here. I was looking out for you..."

He was right. I definitely would not have been able to handle that kind if information on the plane earlier and it was definitely a flight I could not afford to miss. I took a deep breath, allowing everything to sink in while I collected my thoughts and words.

"Did anyone get hurt? Did any teachers quit on me? Any kids get pulled from class?", I asked, continuing to speak in code term.

"No withdrawals, but a few crayons were broken. And someone found where you hid some of the new ones..."

"Jesus Christ!" I quickly apologized to the Lord for saying his name in vain. "I gotta get the fuck outta here", I made my way over to the intercom system, alerting my security that I was ready to go.

"Liv, what are you gonna do about this?"

"I can't do shit about it tonight. I'm exhausted and I need a shower...", the same time, the elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing the guards to me.

"What about your wings?!", he shouted to me as I stepped into the elevator.

"There's bigger shit to worry about than some damn wings!", I answered before the doors shut, ending our conversation.

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><p>After a thirty minute ride home and a nice, warm shower, I walked around my apartment in one on my favorite La Perla sets. I looked around my home that looked like no one even lived here majority of the time. I shook my head, thinking how funny it was that my place was filled with big screen televisions, amazing fish tanks, the finest furniture and the fanciest decor, but if still felt cold and empty.<p>

Being on the 29th floor of my complex's building and having the corner condo gave me access to the most breathtaking views. I opened the sliding glass door and stepped out to the marble tiled balcony. My little Yorkie Poodle puppy named Marlo tried to follow me out there and I quickly scooped her up, as she was able to fit through the bars of the balcony railing and I was afraid that she was to fall to a sure death if she ever slipped through them.

I took a moment to myself to take in the view of the city below me as Marlo playfully gnawed on my fingers with her tiny teeth. I didn't care that I was outside on my balcony with the frigid ocean breeze flying past me or the fact that someone who was high up enough from one of the building across could see me standing in my barely-there lingerie set. It totally went out the window how exhausted I was a few hours ago while I stood there, thinking about the day's events. None of that seemed to matter at all right now.

All that mattered was I, Olivia Pope, known to the public as Candileria Giancarlo, was the unidentifiable owner of the world's biggest drug cartel and someone on my team not only had been robbed, but a loophole in the whole operation had now been exposed.

Someone had fucked with my men and my money, which means that they were now fucking with me.

**_If it ain't about the money,_**

**_You could miss me with it_**

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><p><strong>AN: Now the cat's out of the bag! How many of you guessed right?<strong>

**Reema: you were right on the money! I was kinda mad someone figured it out already lol**

**reneeharris49: I died at "Don't know too many men who would be happy with pineapple and yogurt as a snack." That made my day!**

**Cleo & Marie726: Olivia is the "Stallion". Stallions are male horses, but a stallion is also slang for a woman (with stallion-like" qualities. You'll see why I chose this later on in the story.**

**If you hadn't already guessed it, the title was influenced by T.I.'s About The Money, which I am not ashamed to say is definitely a guilty pleasure right now lol. If you've never heard it, you can listen, but it's not for sensitive ears and it is highly NSFW and I most definitely cleaned it up for this chapter. I will not be using many (if any) derogatory terms because I know it can make a lot of people feel uncomfortable. And if you have heard it, you can probably put two and two together.**

**And, to avoid further confusion, Olivia and Harrison speak in code terms often, as you can imagine. Their conversation about principals and schools was basically saying that Harrison "the assistant principal" had to step in for Olivia "the principal". You might be able to figure out the analogy using context clues.**

**Hope you all enjoyed! I'm working on Chapter 3 now (:**

**Also, I'm still deciding on if I want Fitz to be in this story (I mean, because why wouldn't i?", but I'm still trying to figure out how to bring him in.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Sorry it took so long to update. I had to get back into the groove of school and I also had to figure out how I was bringing Fitz in and if this chapter was going to have an influence on that decision. I'm kinda stuck between two different plotlines where Fitz fits (haha) in this story. I do know how I want it to end, just trying to figure out how I want it to go before it gets to the end lol.**

**So, I noticed a few questions/comments in the reviews and just wanted to clarify and confusion or anything…**

**Guest asked why I called her bodyguards "agents". I would say that Olivia doesn't move with a bodyguard, but with a security detail. Kind of like the President's Secret Service (wink wink, nudge nudge, hint hint). It isn't just one person who is responsible for her safety, but a whole orchestrated team. So far, we've been introduced to one of her drivers (not sure if I'm going to introduce more) and an overall security detail inside the club. I'm more than likely going to use "agents" and "security" interchangeably. **

**Reema: you do win a prize! and it's this update lol! cheesy, i know, but its the best i can do. No, i'm not a drug dealer lmao! I just watch a lot of crime/drug/medical dramas. This story is kinda influenced a bit by Weeds (Showtime), Breaking Bad (AMC) and Power (Showtime). But you pay so much close attention to detail, makes me wonder if you are... hmmmmmmm?**

**lolo8366: drug lord with a husband who has no idea would have been amaziinnnngg! i actually thought really hard about this idea and as a matter of fact, it is still sorta kinda and option.**

**Guest #2: you, my friend, have an amazing storyline that YOU should make into a fic. i am so serious. i would love to see how that turns out, i wouldnt even want to take your idea.**

**Cleo: "even if he's her doorman" lmfaooo omg that made my life! imagine Fitz tippin off his hat to Olivia every night while she smuggles in who knows what into the building. I could imagine his horror when he finds out lol!**

**KikiNickMc: You know, I was expecting someone to say something about Empire. i really don't know how I feel about Empire, so I'm not really sure if there will be any similarities.**

**Let's get to it, shall we?**

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><p>I woke up to the sounds of Marlo's yipping and panting all over my bedroom. I opened my eyes to see that it was still pitch black outside and pressed the home button on my cell, revealing the time to only be 4:56 a.m. I groaned inwardly and looked down on the floor, where I made out Marlo's small form in the dark. She turned around and I could tell that she was staring at me because her little eyes glowed like marbles.<p>

**That shit always freaked me out.**

As if she knew that her presence had been made known, she quickly leaped on to the bed, nuzzling her face into my side as she proceed to make her noise. She was very much housebroken and had picked up on a bathroom schedule — she wasn't due for a walk for the next three hours, which is when I went for my morning run. The room temperature was perfect, not too hot or cold. It wasn't raining, so there was no thunder to alarm her and she surely wasn't hungry or thirsty because her food station was set up over by my room door. I kept the door locked because she liked to wander out to the den and living room and I hated the sound of her little claws against the marble floors in the middle if the night.

So, unless she was bored and wanted to play at five in the morning, which was very much unlike her, I hope she had a reason for waking me out of my sleep. She stopped her commotion for a moment and I watched as she jumped down from the bed and made her way over to her water bowl, lapping at the liquid like she hadn't had a drink in years.

"Damn dog!", I muttered, turning over in the bed and preparing to make myself fall back asleep, when I heard it. My eyes popped opened and I held my breath for a few seconds, just to make sure I was hearing correctly.

**Someone was in my house.**

I moved quickly, throwing the covers off of me and swinging my feet over the side of the bed, slipping them into my favorite pair of Chanel house sandals. I stood up, blindly searching for my sleep cardigan, shoving my hands into the armholes, not caring enough to tie it at the waist. I bent over, slightly lifting the mattress, feeling out for my Glock, which I always kept loaded (horrible habit, but you have to understand - I'm a drug dealer and we half to be twice as prepared as those with blue or even white collar jobs), which was obviously a smart choice in a situation like this.

I moved to grab Marlo, scooping her up in my left arm while I held my gun in my right. I walked over to my bedroom closet and quickly found the shoe box that once pulled opened a safe room, which was stocked and prepared for home invasions, panic attacks, natural disasters, etcetera. I let her down and chuckled to myself as she stared at me in confusion as the door closed her off from me. Thank goodness is was a soundproof room or she would have woken up the whole world with her yelping. I slowly walked away and realized maybe leaving her in there wasn't the best idea. I mean, no one besides Harrison and the persons involved with building it even knew that that room existed, which means no one would be able to find her if I had gotten killed.

Yes, I went there. I was strong, I was fearless, but I wasn't immortal. And I assumed that if someone managed to get into my house, that meant they bypassed my security, which had more than likely been killed off.

I went back for her and she glared at me as I let her out of the room, walking straight past me and laying in a corner of my massive closet. I couldn't help but to giggle. She was young, but she had plenty of sass and personality and I was damn sure she had gotten it from me. Ungrateful little dog. See, this is why I never did pets. She was lucky I cared enough for her safety and didn't leave her to fend for herself in that room.

But now, it was no longer time to play around with Marlo. Someone was inside my house - I needed to know who and I needed to know why. I needed to fend for myself. I kicked off my sandals and whispered a short prayer as I made my way to my bedroom door. With shaky hands, I slowly turned the door knob, making sure the sound of the dead latch went undetected as it echoed (you ever noticed how loud those damn latches were whenever you were trying to sneak in after curfew?). I walked across the room, stepping lightly so my feet didn't stick to the floors and made my way to the front of my home. I noticed a thin line of light that traveled along the tile flooring, leading towards the kitchen. As I reared the island, I heard the sounds of things being moved about and sure enough, once I got close enough, I realized where the light was coming from.

**This mother fucker was in my damn fridge!**

They damn sure didn't come here for just a midnight snack and it pissed me off to think that they had the audacity to come into my home and just walk into my kitchen. Whatever happened to manners these days? Something bubbled up in me and I snapped, raising my gun and putting my fingers on the trigger. Maybe it was the fact that someone invaded my home, my personal space, my safe haven or maybe it was the fact that they were now in my fridge, eating my favorite snacks, getting their little grubby hands on my very expensive bottle of wine. My guns were only meant for protection. I had never actually used one on someone and I never thought I'd see the day were I'd have to. But right now, my life was in danger and it was either to kill or to be killed.

**I chose to kill.**

It was like clockwork; by the time I finally gained enough courage to pounce on this person and start firing off rounds, the fridge door closed and they gasped as they saw the gun pointed in their direction. They weren't the only one who jumped.

"Olivia, what the hell are you doing with a gun?"

"Abby?!", I asked shocked, yet relieved, yet mad as all hell because if my brain had taken only a second longer to register that it was her, I probably would have shot a bullet straight through her skull. I sighed, throwing the gun on the island counter and took a deep breath, trying to gain my composure.

"Bitch, were you gonna shoot me?", she asked bewildered, as if in that moment I didn't have the reason to.

"I thought you... I thought... Abby, what the fuck are you doing here? In my kit- in my **_fridge_**, in the middle of the night?"

"I thought I'd come visit?", she more asked instead of telling me and she shrugged her shoulders, moving towards the counter with my wine in her hand.

"Visit? Living in the same building, maybe on a different floor, I could understand. Living across the street, I could understand. Driving here from another city only twenty minutes away but at a more reasonable time of day, you know, like 12:00 in the afternoon, I could totally understand. But flying across continents unannounced and just showing up in someone's house does not count as visiting, Abigail..."

About three years ago, she had married Stephen Finch, who was one of our childhood friends. Abby, Stephen, Harrison and I were thick as thieves growing up and it was obvious that the two shared some chemistry. it wasn't long before they started dating and eventually got married. When we all went our ways, the two moved to Scotland, Stephen's place of origin, where he opened his own law firm.

"You gave me a key, Liv..."

"That key was for... is for... you do realize that I could have just killed you, right?"

"Speaking of which, since when do you own a gun? You don't even believe in killing. It's your rule, your only rule, everyone knows that..."

"Abby!", I was growing frustrated at the fact that she wasn't taking me seriously right now.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I wanted to surprise you. I actually planned to reach here nearly twelve hours ago but my fucking flight kept getting delayed. When I got here, the only thing I wanted to do was grab something to eat and get real acquainted with the guest bedroom. I was going to write you a note so you wouldn't freak out when you saw me in the morning. I figured there was no point in trying to wake you up, since you sleep like a log. I'm surprised you even heard me..."

It made sense now. Although I wasn't glad to be imposed on in the middle of the night, I was glad that we were both still alive.

"Marlo woke me up...", I responded, grabbing the remote control on the other side of the counter and using it to turn the light on.

"Whoa! Don't we look like the black Marilyn Monroe", she surveyed my lingerie set that I slept in the for the night and my new haircut (which one might say was a little Marilyn Monroe-esque) and I immediately reached for the sides of my cardigan, pulling them in and tying the belt around the waist. "Hmm, whoever Marlo is, he must have some pretty good sex to have you wearing _**that**_ to bed and keeping you up all hours of the night..."

I rolled my eyes, walking away from her back into my bedroom to find Marlo now that the coast was clear. "Marlo's my puppy", I yelled out and I picked her off the floor, carrying her back out to the kitchen.

"Puppy? Olivia Pope doesn't do puppies...", she responded as she drained her glass, reaching for the bottle to pour a new one.

"Yeah, well Candileria Giancarlo does puppies. And dogs", she looked over in my direction, her eyes locking on Marlo before she scrunched up her nose and made a face of disgust. Abby hated dogs. She hated animals. She hated humans too.

"Candileria Giancarlo does a lot of shit that Olivia Pope would never do. You know, like..."

"Abby…", I cut her off from saying words that were never to be mentioned out loud and she put her hands up to stop me from talking.

"It's so crazy how much we've changed. We were such good girls. You were such a good girl Liv. You're not you anymore..."

"Abby, I am me. I'm still Olivia. I just... I have to..."

"Yeah yeah, I know. You know I'll always support you. But you're not you anymore, you're **_him_**. And I kinda wish you would let **_him_** go..."

I had nothing to say. She was right. It had been so long and I still hadn't been able to let _**him**_ go. I let my guilt consume me. I let _**him**_ consume me.

"Anyways, I'm heading to bed. I'm exhausted and you and I are going shopping tomorrow!"

"We are?", I was glad for the quick change in subject and a little bit excited for a shopping trip.

"Yes, we are. I need a new wardrobe."

"A new wardrobe?", I asked confused, "How long are you planning to stay here?"

"Oops, I forgot to tell you. I guess it kinda slipped my mind, you know, kinda like what usually happens when a gun is pointed to your head…"

"Oh, get over it. You're lucky I didn't pull the trigger. And what did you forget to tell me now?"

"I'm moving in…", she said and I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn't asleep and that this wasn't a nightmare.

"You're **WHAT?!**"

"I asked Stephen for a divorce", she gulped down the rest of her glass before leaning in to place a kiss on my forehead. "We'll talk about it some other time. Get some sleep!", she said before walking away to what would become her new bedroom.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And there you have it. This was basically just a filler chapter. There's a whole bunch of foreshadowing here, I'm warning you! A little Marlo time, I think of Marlo like Liv's baby lol. And we get the introduction of Abby. Next chapter is half written, so I shouldn't (I'm hoping) take too long to update.<strong>

**Please, don't forget that this story is labeled M for content and language. There will be drugs references in this story, but they might not be too heavy. This might be too much for some!**


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